Vinicio Capossela — Sabato al Corallo song lyrics and translation

The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Sabato al Corallo" by Vinicio Capossela.

Lyrics

Come in sogno
La macchina scivola via
La bocca che sa di fumo, di vino
Di baci a venire e di frenesia
E la pianura s’e' vestita
Di luci gialle nella foschia
La provinciale si fa scintillante
Tutti corrono
Anche se non si sa mai dove andare
Ma eccolo qua il nostro locale
Mai finito sul giornale
Perso nelle nebbie di paese
Ma pieno di macchine
Che sembra una citta'
La musica e' alta e un po' sanguigna
C’e' sempre qualcuno da salutar
Qui non si puo' fare a pugni per una spinta
E bere birra come in Irlanda
E dimenticarsi dell’officina
Che le ragazze son belle e allegre
Ragazze sogni di finto cinema
Ragazze stanche
Delle otto ore
Ma cosa importa
Futuro o no
Stanotte e' sabato e miei amici ubriachi
Son meglio di un film
Ed eccoci qua tutti a far cerchio
A scalciare a vuoto a tempo di rock
Noialtri giovani di provincia emiliana
Cerchiam di bruciar con un po' di grandeur
Come hanno fatto
I fratelli maggiori
Ormai sposati e sistemati
Come in sogno
La macchina scivola via
La bocca che sa di fumo, di vino
Di baci venuti e di nostalgia
Con l’occhio socchiuso mi sembra che
La pianura s’e' vestita
Di luci gialle nella foschia

Lyrics translation

As in a dream
The machine slips away
The mouth that smells of smoke, of wine
Of kisses to come and frenzy
And the plain got dressed
Of yellow lights in the haze
The provincial gets shimmering
Everyone runs
Even if you never know where to go
But here's our place.
Never finished in the paper
Lost in the country mists
But full of machines
That looks like a city.
The music is loud and a little bloody
There's always someone to say hello to
You can't punch for a push here.
And drink beer like in Ireland
And forget about the workshop
That girls are beautiful and cheerful
Girls dreams of fake cinema
Tired girls
Eight o'clock
But what does it matter
Future or not
Tonight is Saturday and my drunk friends
I'm better than a movie
And here we are all circling
To kick empty in time of rock
Weother young people of emiliana province
We try to burn with a little grandeur
How did they
The older brothers
Now married and settled
As in a dream
The machine slips away
The mouth that smells of smoke, of wine
Of kisses and nostalgia
With my eye ajar it seems to me that
The Plain has dressed
Of yellow lights in the haze